


Hope Is All We'll Ever Have

by Wolfstar4evr



Series: Supernatural Oneshots [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Bobby, Bobby SInger - Freeform, But he has no reason to feel guilty, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fifteen Year Old Sam, Guilt, High School, Hurt Sam, John Winchester - Freeform, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Mary Winchester (Mentioned) - Freeform, Nineteen Year Old Dean, Pain, Pre-Series, Protective Bobby, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suspected abuse, Teachers, Teenchesters, Worried Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 13:44:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4668857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfstar4evr/pseuds/Wolfstar4evr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a particularly rough hunt, John decides to leave the injured teenage brothers out of the next one so Sam has time to go to school. However when a teacher spots the extensive bruises spanning across Sam's torso he assumes abuse, and calls the police. When Dean gets there he tries to assure everyone that everything is okay, but it turns out to be less true than he thought as he spots the cuts on his little brother's arms. Can Dean (with Bobby's help) help Sam through whatever it is he's going through? </p><p>(This is legitimitely the worst summary I've ever written.)</p><p>Part of the 365 Days Of Supernatural (and possibly others) challenge I'm setting myself, where I try to write something every day. We shall see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hope Is All We'll Ever Have

"Are you absolutely sure?" 

"Absolutely. The kid's covered in them. There are bruises everywhere, all over his torso. It looks like he's been kicked over and over." 

The pricipal sucks in a breath and looks over at his colleague. "Where is he now?" 

"Outside," The PE teacher jerks his head towards the door. "We should call the police. I know that we should usually contact the parents too, for an explanation, but from what I gathered the kid's dad is out of town indefinitely." 

"His mom?" 

"Dead." 

The older man's jaw goes slack, his knuckles cracking against the desk as he forces his hands harder against it. "So he has no one? He's just on his own?" 

"Not quite," The younger man states, handing over a slip of paper with a phone number on it. "He has an older brother in town. I'd have already called, but since the kid's dad is gone my main concern is that the brother is the one who's caused the bruises. Maybe their father doesn't know anything about it." 

Grunting in approval, the principal reads the number once before dialing it into his phone. "Might as well get the brother here and see," He mutters, and the younger man nods before excusing himself to make sure the police have been informed. The phone barely rings twice before it's picked up. "Hello?" A reasonably deep voice says on the other end, calmly and politely. 

"Hello," Mr Farrell replies in the same tone. "May I speak to John Winchester?" 

There's a long pause. "He's not available." Is the eventual, unsurprising reply. 

"Ah, well then may I speak to the guardian of Samuel Winchester?" He asks next, waiting for an abrasive, short reply. 

That's not what he gets. 

"Is Sammy okay?" The voice says again, this time slightly higher and very, very worried. 

The older man shakes his head in surprise. "Some things have come to our attention," He answers carefully, slowly. "It might be best if you came in." 

"I'll be there in ten," Is rushed out before the man hangs up the phone. 

Fifteen minutes later the police have arrived: one rather severe looking man and a kind looking lady. One is there to restrain the brother or father or whoever turns up in case they are the abuser, and the other is to question Sam - the brother is a no-show, despite his promise. They are guided into Mr Farrell's office, where the child had previously been placed. The principal joins them. "Now, Sam," The lady says quietly, but she's not sure she's been heard. The teenager is half asleep, and yet he still managing to sit completely still on his chair, his back straight as a ruler, not touching the back of the chair. "My name is Officer Mills, this is Officer Gregson. We're just going to ask you a few questions okay?" 

At this Sam nods, although he looks scared out of his mind. Mr Farrell sits off to the side. "Now," Officer Mills begins again. "Who looks after you at home, Sam?" 

"I can look after myself," Is the terse reply, Sam staring stubbornly at the floor. 

"I'm sure you can," Mills assures him in a soft voice. "But who is at home with you? Who makes sure you look after yourself?"

Sam grips the arms of the chair tightly. "Dean." 

"Who's Dean, Sam?" 

He takes a deep breath. "My brother." 

Mills smiles kindly, leaning toward the boy ever so slightly. "How old is Dean?" 

"Nineteen."

"That's quite young," The officer observes. "Where are your parents?" 

"Dad's off working. Mom's... uh... dead." The last admission is wrought with pain and guilt, causing suspicioun to rise in everyone else in the room. 

"I'm sorry to hear that," Mills says carefully. "Now-"

But she's cut off by the door violently swinging open and a young man flying through it, straight towards Sam. A few seconds later an older man follows, panting for breath. He stays in the doorway, watching as Sam barely acknowledges their presence, only looking at the boy in front of him when he grasps his hands. "Sammy," He says worriedly, confirming the universal thought that this is Dean - the brother. "Are you okay?" 

Sam doesn't answer in any way, but doesn't protest or even react when his brother moves to lift his shirt. Bruises upon bruises upon bruises are exposed to everyone in the room, and the older man steps forward, his face showing great alarm. Dean almost chokes as he surveys the damage. "You never told us you were beat up this bad," He whispers in a pained voice. 

Seeing the other adult's confusion, he speaks up for the boys. "Sam was mugged in their last place," He explains as calmly as he can. But as he looks back at Sam he can't help but feel that there's something wrong with the kid - that something bigger is going on that no one knows about, that Sam's keeping hidden. 

One of the officers nod. "Are you John Winchester?" 

The man runs a hand down his face. "Nah. I'm Bobby Singer, just an old family friend. I live in the next town over so Dean came to get me after you called him." 

The officers seem to accept this as the principal recalls Bobby's name being listed as an emergency, emergency contact if both John and Dean are unavailable. All attention turns back to the boys as Dean moves to roll up Sam's sleeves. But as he does the younger boy protests and romves his arms from his brother's grasp. 

"Sammy," Dean sighs, making a move to grab Sam's arm again. "I just need to make sure you're okay." 

Bobby steps in. "Kid, we just need to make sure nothing's broken, especially since you lied about the bruises."

The older man's speech distracts Sam enough that his brother can roll his right sleeve up slightly. Unfortunately Sam notices, and rips his arm away, but not before Dean spots something that causes panic to well up inside him and makes him almost tackle Sam in an effort to see his arms. Eventually he succeeds, and manages to roll up the sleeve, and then the other as all fight goes out of Sam. Bobby purses his lips as the cuts adorning both of Sam's forearms are revealed. He knew he should have taken both those kids off John a long time ago. He knew it. 

Dean's breathing becomes shaky, and one of the officer makes a move towards them only to be stopped by Bobby, who gives her a threatening look. It's not lost on the adults that the brother's are oblivious to everyone else in the room, and interrupting them could be fatal to Sam opening up at all. "Did you do this?" Dean asks, his voice wavering with emotion. "Sam?" 

Tears well in the younger boy's eyes as he stares at his brother. Finally, he speaks. "A girl in my class did it in our last place. She said it made her feel better. It... it makes me feel better, cause I deserve the pain." At this he breaks down, burying his face into them and crying his heart out. Immediately, Dean has Sam standing while he takes his place in the chair, pulling his little brother onto his lap, not even thinking about how ridiculous it might look considering Sam is almost an inch taller than him already. He holds his brother like a small child, both arms wrapped around him with Sam's head tucked underneath his chin. It comes as a surprise to everyone except Bobby as Dean begins crying too. 

"You don't deserve pain, Sammy," He says in a pained voice. "Why would you even think that?" 

Sam cries harder, burying his face into his brother's shoulder. "It's-It's my fault mom's dead, an' it's my fault w-we live like this." 

"No no no no no," Dean mutters, shaking his head vehemently. "No it's not your fault, why would you even think that?" 

"Cause, cause." He takes a deep breath. "If I hadn't been born then she wouldn't have been in my nursery, and she wouldn't have died. And if she hadn't died we'd just be in Kansas in a house and you n' dad would be happy and we wouldn't have to move an'-"

This time, Bobby interrupts, his lips and voice trembling slightly. Damn John Winchester straight to Hell for doing this to these boys. "No, Sam." He kneels down next to the chair and reaches out to touch Sam's hand. "None of that is your fault. You being born is one of the greatest things that ever happened to both of your parents. You were six months old when Mary passed, and she loves you to the moon and back. As for you guys moving around... Well, it's not your fault your daddy's a lunatic." 

At that Dean laughs slightly as the officers and principal stand to leave. As the female officers turns to go she asks if she can speak to Bobby before he leaves. He gives a short nod in reply. After a couple more minutes it becomes clear that Sam is falling asleep, which is no surprise to the older Winchester. Since their last hunt Sammy has been plagued with nightmares and has had barely any sleep at all. He hates that. Sleep should be a place where Sam doesn't have to worry about any of this. There should be no pain in sleep. 

"Let's get you boys back to my place," Bobby suggests once Sam is properly asleep. He decides to ignore the fact that Dean is still crying, if only for the fact it would mortify the nineteen year old if it was acknowledged. "I'll take him." He reaches down to take Sam off Dean to carry him to the Impala that John had left with them. 

"No," Dean says gruffly, standing as carefully as he can as to not awaken his brother. "I got him." 

"Alright then," Bobby says cautiously, holding the door open for Dean and then following them out of the office. "Get him in the car." 

As Dean leaves the school with permission from the principal, Bobby turns to the officers, who seem satisfied that their is no abuse, just a missing father and a child who needs help he is now getting. "You wanted to speak with me?" 

Mills smiles. "I was wondering if you could give us the address of where the boys are staying?"

The old man shrugs, running a hand over his face, the skin of his palm grinding against his beard. "I have no idea," He admits. "But they're staying with me now, and I'll see if I can get their dad back here. They do travel a lot, and he's a bit stern, but John is a good dad, and if he knew Sam was hurt he would never have left." 

The officer nods, but doesn't seem to believe him completely. He doesn't blame her; he doesn't quite believe it himself. He turns to the principal, "I don't think Sam's gonna be in tomorrow. We want to make sure he's healing properly." 

The principal relaxes. "I was going to suggest it myself." 

Bobby nods, and after promising the officer and the principal to get John down to the school when he's back in town, he goes out to the car, not surprised to find both boys in the back seat, Sam still asleep and Dean unable to let go of him. At least the boy had stopped crying. Bobby gets into the driver's seat, starting the car and beginning to drive to the motel Dean directs him to to get their things before going to his house. Once they've checked out completely and cleared the room (let John panic when he gets back, he deserves it), Dean climbs into the front seat, to let Sammy sleep in the back where they left him. 

"Bobby," Dean whispers, pained. "Why does he feel like that?" 

The older man sighs. "This life ain't for everyone, kid," He says tiredly. "You know that Sam's always been a sensitive soul." 

Dean whimpers, and Bobby looks over to find him crying again. "But... I can't... Oh God. Months ago, he was talking about Stanford again - to me, not to dad - but then he kist kind of broke down. He didn't cry or anything but he just, kept talking. I couldn't make much sense of it, but he was talking about how he didn't want to be a hunter but he had to be because it's his fault we're hunters in the first place. And... And... I just told him to go to sleep and stop being stupid. But God Bobby that was months ago. He's been feeling this for months, years maybe." 

"What happened on your last hunt, Dean?" Bobby asks softly, not entirely sure how to help the kids through this. "What do you think brought these feelings forth now?" 

Dean's lip trembles, and he doesn't answer for several minutes as Bobby drives slowly across the roads. "It was a rough hunt," He says slowly, carefully. "Dad still won't let Sammy fight, so usually we just make him help with research and then we go and kill the son of the bitch. But this time Dad made Sam come with us, and handed him a knife and then made me go another place with him." Bobby cringes. He knows where this is going and can't help it as he feels anger boiling his blood. "He left him for bait, Bobby," Dean moans, pain lacing every syllable. "I didn't realise until it was too late. He left him for bait, against a demon, with nothing but a bread knife to defend himself. I managed to get away from dad and get to Sam, but I screwed it up. The demon ran and dad's shot missed and after laying into me and Sam Dad left to go get it. But... I couldn't just leave him Bobby. When I got there the demon had him on the ground kicking the crap out of him. I know I should have checked his injuries but he said he fine and I just wanted to forget everything that had happened. Dad didn't leave us here because he wanted us to rest; he left us here because he doesn't trust us not to screw up." 

Bobby grips the steering wheel so hard his knuckles go white. His entire form is shaking in rage. How dare John treat his children this way. No wonder Sam is depressed. No wonder Sam thinks everything bad that has ever happened is his fault. No wonder Dean thinks the same. No wonder Dean is always looking after Sam; if he doesn't, who else will? 

Not John, that's for sure. 

He can't help himself; as Dean begins to cry harder Bobby pulls the car over onto an empty back road and stops it. The child barely notices as the man gets out of the car and makes his way over to the passenger side. After opening the door he barely gives Dean time to give a confused look before he pulls him into a hug, gripping him tight as he returns it and cries. "It's gonna be okay," Bobby whispers, glancing at the back seat to find Sam still asleep. His heart aches for them both. "Everything's gonna be okay, Dean. I'm gonna make sure you and Sam and gonna be just fine. Everything's gonna be just fine." 

They both know it's a lie. John will never gives up his sons - his soldiers. But for now they can hope, because hope is all they've ever had, and in the absense of any sort of stability, it's all they'll ever have.

**Author's Note:**

> This was quite possibly the worst thing I've ever written.  
> If I ever update this it will be another part of the challenge probably, but I will add a chapter telling you guys which part of the series that is.  
> I hope you enjoyed reading! (Thanks if you did at all!) XD.  
> Sorry for any mistakes. I haven't proof read.


End file.
